End Credits (Scorched Earth Policy)
These are the end credits for Scorched Earth Policy. Cast (Sine Qua Non) Alarrexion Aldorae Alriona Anthrastus Aphnesara Arlarana Arviyan Asvora Athaldus Avellinne Bazzflame Blindlight Brusselon Butterchurn Cyonos Desiraira Dormthal Dumuzi Elmina Eridan Fantalmore Feedirn Fireshadow Gamarox Gathearis Girminn Hileth Istinerros Jailard Jeremaias Jouran Kaell Kenevianna Kisella Korae Krizto Laruno Lilliyaa Linaly Lionehârt Lumimarie Lunauna Maelydra Nerolos Nesima Norraneth Olivianatate Opalarie Raaxine Rehviir Reileana Rivian Ryuoko Sableblade Sallic Santhianna Selianatha Serkanâ Sherwind Silverspear Solaela Sollathen Spintowind Szadek Tatsuyo Teánuu Teherasanda Thaylei Theodendark Tolath Tragan Tydark Valmorthose Vilinevera Viremya Vultier Walorian Wárdom Whitebird Yurrio Zanddraa Zinmay Zixis Mid-Credits Stinger There was a high, chill wind in this hollow of the Grizzly Hills, blowing relentlessly over the ruined camp. The skeletal framework of tents dotted the charred-out soil, smoldering; campfires had burnt themselves out; even frame-stretched leathers and furs, the lifeblood of the trapping trade, sizzled with the last remnants of some elemental fury. But no pall of smoke lingered here; it was carried away by an unseasonal north wind. The conflagration had clearly been campfires, run out of control, but the trappers in this tinderbox of a land knew perfectly well how to control them. No, there must be something more, especially as it was clear none of them had escaped. The newcomer sniffed the air, savoring the tang of chi. He smiled, and picked his way through the lingering embers and smoking, broken corpses, to the center of the camp. He didn’t see whom he sought until he almost tripped over him. The massive pandaren, big even in a world of giants, stirred only slightly at the newcomer’s approach. The wind swirled slowly around the place where he sat, ruffling his fur. The newcomer had been looking for the white of the pandaren’s coat, but ash had stained it nearly as black as the rest. Han Stormpaw did not look up; he only began to quiver anew with sobs. “You found her?” the newcomer asked. “Yujie,” Han moaned. “She came here...she died.” “Died, you say? I’m so sorry for your loss.” The newcomer paused, letting it be taken for sensitive hesitation. “How?” “They let her die for them,” Han said. “And then...they stole her skin and sold it! They desecrated her body! I know they did! That is what they do here!” The wind became sharper, more stinging. The newcomer magically brushed a gout of flying ash out of the way before it hit him in the face. “That’s a shame, a shame. I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you sooner.” “As if you care,” Han muttered. “As if anyone cares for one of my kind.” “Oh, I do! But...most don’t. The extreme majority won’t, really. This is just the sad, ultimate outcome of--” “Do not lecture me!” Stormpaw said sharply. “Do not lecture me! I know that my people do not belong out among these...these…!” He trailed off, his paws curling into fists. “They call us animals, but they are the animals! We would never do this to them!” The newcomer let him rage, watching with carefully-composed sympathy. Finally, he asked: “What will you do now?” Han looked up, his eyes flashing. “I will...I will go home. And I will persuade others to come home, too, before this…” He gestured around. “Before more of this.” “What if they won’t come?” "I’ll...then I’ll…” Han’s newfound purpose fizzled as he wrestled with this question. “I...don’t know.” The newcomer tapped his chin, as if only now thinking of the plan he had had in mind for some months now. “I miiiight be able to help you with that. But it would be risky, and you might have to bring harm to your fellow pandaren--only harm, though, and only a little! But better only a little harm than...this.” Han continued to struggle, and the newcomer waited patiently for him to arrive at the place he was quite sure he would. Yes, there it was: the dulling of the eyes, the surrender of principle to purpose. Just like the newcomer had expected. Just like they all did, eventually. “Tell me.” The newcomer smiled. Crew Assistant Directors Sallic Tolath Phase One Volunteers Alarrexion Aldorae Aphnesara Butterchurn Desiraira Elmina Gathearis Lilliyaa Sollathen Vultier Event Designers Jeremaias Aldorae Butterchurn Krizto Sallic Vilinevera Still Photography Fantalmore Gathearis Jouran Kaell Lumimarie Sollathen Special thanks to the following guilds Ashborne Accord Embershield Protectorate The First Legion Greyshields Kingdom of Rosemore Knights of Ashfall Knights of Solidarity The Phantom Legion The Storm Glaive The Unbroken Campaign Director Jeremaias This campaign made use of the following tools * World of Warcraft * Google Docs * Adobe Photoshop * Discord * Elephant add-on via Curse.com * TotalRP3 Extended add-on via Curse.com * Tongues add-on via Curse.com End Credits Stinger Jeremaias sat in his room in the Darnassus Inn--well, more like a nest. Its walls were scarce, the room wide open to the world, just as with all kaldorei architecture. And beyond, the perpetual twilight that lay over the north lands of Kalimdor. Ordinarily, he would be spending his last waking hours admiring the curious beauty of the scenery, but tonight was different. Tonight belonged to a new mystery. He turned a flame-colored jewel over and over in his hand. It was warm to the touch, warmer than it should be even after handling, and seemed to glow from within. There was a knock at the door, and Jeremaias tore his gaze away from the hypnotic glimmers of inward flame. Tolath waited, and when Jeremaias nodded quietly, came into the room and took a seat without asking. The two sat in silence for a while. “Third one?” Tolath asked. “Third one.” Jeremaias grimaced. “Moongraze, Redblade, and now Starfire. All with magical gems found among their remains.” “Connected?” Jeremaias looked over the tops of his glasses at Tolath. Tolath shrugged. “Going to keep it?” “No. This is for the Earthen Ring. Perhaps they can puzzle out its nature--and its origin.” Jeremaias gave it one last, lingering, almost fond look before putting into a velvet-lined box. “I want to know why these keep turning up, the common thread, the cause--and who, if anyone, might be causing it.” Our heroes will return In WINDS OF CHANGE Chapter Four of The Contrivance Category:Scorched Earth Policy Category:Tales